


A Father's Perspective

by Kalira



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Family, M/M, POV Hakoda, POV Outsider, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: What Hakoda sees when he watches his son, from after his rescue from the Boiling Rock to beyond the end of the Great War.





	A Father's Perspective

Hakoda watches them quietly. It wasn’t his intention, at first - it’s a big enough ship, there’s room for private conversations. He’d been looking for his son, wanted to speak with Sokka, and-

Well, he’d found Sokka, but not alone, and then . . . it doesn’t feel right to interrupt now, somehow, and Hakoda is curious besides - his wondering about how the _Crown Prince of the Fire Nation_ came to be breaking him out of prison has not yet been answered. Yes, he had trusted Sokka when he had put his confidence in the Prince, but he still wanted to know how it had _happened_.

“Zuko you- You really didn’t have to. . .” Sokka trails off, one hand curled hesitantly only just shy of the Zuko’s arm.

“It’s all right.” Zuko says quietly, shaking his head.

“I should have _told_ you, I-” Sokka actually looks guilty, and Hakoda wonders what he could be talking about. “I just . . . I _had_ to find Dad.” he says, and Hakoda wants to hug him, he looks so young and hurt and . . . he _is_ young. Grown, maybe, and Hakoda would never say he isn’t a man - and growing into a fine one - but still Hakoda’s _son_.

“It’s all right,” Zuko repeats, “I- Understand.”

“Zuko?” Sokka actually clasps his arm this time, stepping close.

“If I thought I could find my mother. . .” Zuko says and Hakoda’s eyes widen.

“Zuko! I-” Sokka shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” he says, and Zuko looks pained as he hushes Sokka and shakes his own head. “If I could help you. . .”

The shock on Zuko’s face tells Hakoda that whatever he knew of the Prince, there were some things missing. No Prince should look so taken aback by the thought of being offered _help_ \- no one Zuko’s age should, Hakoda thinks, because he realised during the escape that Zuko was barely older than Sokka.

So many children thrown into the teeth of this war, and Hakoda is _so proud_ of what his children have done, _are_ doing, but he aches to think of it all the same. They shouldn’t be the ones fighting this war, but they were never given the chance to avoid it.

Hakoda feels like he has missed something, but perhaps it is only because the boys now speak so quietly that he can barely hear them and some of their words do not reach him here. Sokka wraps his arms around Zuko’s waist and he looks surprised again, his arms coming up around Sokka but hesitating as though he is unfamiliar with the gesture.

Sokka, who has never let apprehension - or propriety - hold him back when his mind is made up, only tightens his hold on Zuko’s waist, leaning his head against Zuko’s. He is slightly smaller than the Prince, but he is so much more confident - except when they are fighting, Hakoda thinks quietly. Sokka is a warrior, and no mistaking it, nor his self-assurance in battle, but Zuko is too, and _there_ he shows none of this hesitance or indecision.

“I shouldn’t have let you come with me, I knew- Well, I thought. . .” Sokka sighed, looking guilty as he bows his head a little more.

“I didn’t exactly _ask_ if I could come, Sokka.” Zuko pointed out. “And your plan got us out.” he added, almost chiding. Hakoda smiles a little, because for all he’s implacable when he’s made a plan, and ever loud with his pride in himself, Sokka can be insecure. Seeing someone else remind him of his own value is nice. Someone his son clearly values himself.

“You didn’t know I thought we might die.” Sokka says. “That I thought it was _likely_ I - we - would die. You could have died, I even thought it was probably going to happen, for _my_ mission, and you didn’t even choose yourself. I could have gotten you _killed_.”

Hakoda’s eyes widen again. Of course he’d known breaking into the prison had been a dangerous plan - and yes, especially breaking _out_ , they could all have died, but that Sokka had actually thought. . . And come _anyway_. Hakoda’s heart wrenches.

“Well, I did spend half a year chasing after you. I don’t think I could really complain if it had happened.” Zuko says, and Sokka looks even more upset. “Not that I could complain if I was dead anyway, but I mean. . .”

Oh, _Tui_ , the boy is even more awkward than Sokka, Hakoda thinks, both amused and faintly amazed.

“Zuko, that’s not- I might not have,” Sokka pauses, swallowing, “I wouldn’t have dragged you to your death, not on purpose, and that’s not- It’s not _okay_ to think that.” he says, leaning back to look Zuko in the eye. Zuko looks surprised.

“I would have come anyway.” Zuko says softly, and Sokka’s face echoes his surprise, and then softens with a smile. Hakoda knows his son very well, even with all their time apart, which is why he can see it that Sokka is nearly crying. “You needed . . . help. Me.”

Sokka hugs Zuko tight again, this time resting his head on Zuko’s shoulder and leaning into him. Zuko’s response is still hesitant, but he supports Sokka easily as he leans into Zuko’s chest and doesn’t push him away. Zuko looks uncomfortable - Hakoda can see his expression, this time, with Sokka’s head bowed low - but perhaps more with himself than he is actually upset.

“You- I-” Sokka’s face is tucked in against Zuko’s neck and Hakoda can no longer see it, but he can watch Zuko’s expressions - conflicted, confused, hesitant, but . . . a hint of a smile, too. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Zuko. Thank you. A lot.”

“It’s all right.” Zuko says awkwardly, patting Sokka’s back and then, finally, hugging him in return as Sokka’s arms tighten around his waist. Sokka is a tactile boy and while Hakoda would have bet strongly against Zuko being the same - what he sees now is not really changing his mind, Zuko looks discomposed and uncertain even as he returns the gesture - he doesn’t push Sokka away.

“So uh.” Sokka leans back on his own, eventually, though his arms are still halfway around Zuko, resting against his hips now. Hakoda is watching his son embrace the Fire Nation Crown Prince. He has no idea how his life has twisted so far out of recognition. Do other people’s children redefine their lives so much? “Thanks. Uh, sorry.” Sokka adds, raising one hand and rubbing at Zuko’s shoulder as though he is cleaning . . . _himself_ off the ragged fabric of the prison uniform.

Zuko catches his hand and he flinches back, but all Zuko does is pull Sokka’s hand away from his shoulder, still holding it. Sokka finally looks at him again after a long few moments. Sokka couldn’t see it, of course - he was staring at the floor - but Hakoda was watching while Sokka was not and saw the patience, tinged with something else - fond exasperation, maybe? Is that even possible? - on his sharp features.

“Sokka. You’re welcome.” Zuko says softly. “And you don’t need to apologise to me. If you did . . . well, you’ve done it now and it’s over, all right?” Sokka blinks at him, eyes wide, and then a wobbly sort of smile comes across his face.

Hakoda notices a moment later that Zuko is squeezing his hand, and Sokka squeezes back, relaxing a little again. The smile softens and spreads into a more usual expression for his face and he looks more comfortable.

Zuko even gives him a smile back, although the expression looks vaguely alien on his face. Hakoda would feel badly for thinking it - even if he’s Fire Nation, even if he’s their _Prince_ , he’s just a boy - a young man - barely older than Sokka and now on their side to boot - but. . .

It isn’t Hakoda being dismissive, Zuko really looks as though he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Hakoda doesn’t either, now, not where he is. He meant to find Sokka and speak to him about Zuko, but he didn’t want to intrude and now he does even less - although he has more to think on, now, on the subject of the Fire Nation Crown Prince.

He doesn’t necessarily trust Prince Zuko on his own merits - not yet - but Sokka clearly put his life in this boy’s hands - more than that, the lives of his father and his girlfriend - not just willingly but without hesitation. Hakoda trusts his son’s judgement and he won’t mistrust Zuko either, not unless he does something new to earn it.

Hakoda looks at the boys again, speaking softly now, leaning side-by-side against the railing of the airship, and thinks . . . he will be very surprised if Zuko does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Zuko. _Go._ ” Sokka is saying as Hakoda wakes, and he holds very still, listening. A low murmur - too low to make out - and then- “You haven’t slept since Boiling Rock, and I’m not actually sure you slept there, either.” Sokka says almost sharply.

“Wasn’t exactly going to relax _there_ , was I?” Zuko says, a little louder this time, and Hakoda’s lips twitch at the sharp dryness of his tone.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka says, some of the wind falling dead in his sails, “it was my fault you were thrown into the cells instead of. . .”

“It worked out.” Zuko says gently, and Hakoda risks a quiet turn, looking for them in the dark of the airship’s interior. There is a tiny glow, enough to make out the boys’ faces - and the shape of Chit Sang sleeping across the room - that Hakoda realises belatedly is a tiny flame blooming in Zuko’s palm, cupped between the boys’ chests. “And you watched my back as best you could in a guard uniform, too. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well. My fault.” Sokka says, brushing it off. “So you haven’t slept- You didn’t get any rest on the balloon, either!”

“The balloon needs to be fuelled to fly - needed.” Zuko says with a shrug.

“You haven’t slept since we left the temple?” Sokka demands, and Hakoda’s brows rise. “We’ve been- We flew for almost a whole day, broke into a prison, you- you were _arrested_ , and _frozen_ , and the fights, and- You fought your _sister_ \- You-”

“I’m all right.” Zuko says with a shrug, looking uncomfortable. The little flame he holds flickers and twists around his fingers. “I had things to do.”

“And now you don’t.” Sokka says, clasping his forearm, apparently not only unafraid of the fire the other boy holds but trusting the firebender’s control - or just trusting him - enough to pay no mind to it at all. “I understand how these ships work, I can keep it going and steer it. We’ll be fine if you lie down for a while and actually _rest_.”

“But. . .” Zuko looks resistant, even as Sokka pushes him a few steps closer to the door deeper into the ship.

“I’ll wake you if I need firebendery help, okay?” Sokka says, placatory. “I mean, I could ask Chit Sang, but it’s not like I expect _him_ to know anything about airships.”

“No. Ask _me_.” Zuko says warily, and Sokka nods, exaggerated and even _more_ placatory.

“Exactly. I can wake you up if we need firebendery help, but you don’t have to be a walking flamethrower to steer this ship, and you’ve _got_ to be tired by now, even you,” Sokka says, and he is gently nudging Zuko further and further across the floor, “and look, even if there’s trouble, we both know you wouldn’t sleep through it. And wouldn’t you face it better after you’ve rested?” He is downright coaxing now, wheedling as he physically nudges Zuko along, and it’s _working_ , Hakoda is actually a little surprised to see, though the boy _must_ be exhausted if Sokka’s recitation is at all accurate.

Zuko finally sighs, bowing his head, and murmurs his agreement. He lets Sokka guide him into the room at the back, then clasps his arm to stop him leaving.

A moment later Sokka is accepting a glass-walled lantern, the tiny flame the Prince was fuelling pouring off his fingers and into its confines. Sokka gives a wondering little laugh, watching. “It’s like catching a bird!” Hakoda thinks he says, a little too far away to hear clearly, and Zuko smiles at him while he isn’t looking, but the expression is gone when he lifts his head.

Zuko steps back and Sokka closes the door, leaving him alone. He picks his way across the room again - the lantern gives off less light than the flame did when it was in Zuko’s hand - and slips silently out again.

Hakoda looks at the door behind which Zuko is presumably now resting, and then props himself up, thoughtful. It is quiet, so he hears when Sokka is joined by Suki, outside, and he makes no move to rise or join his son. Leave the pair alone, he thinks, smiling, and lies down again listening to the soft, unintelligible murmur of their voices.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hakoda is a little surprised - once he has settled in enough to actually pay attention to anything other than his children, who he has missed so, so much - _not_ to see the Fire Nation Prince. He’s _there_ , of course, but . . . his presence is oddly lacking.

He appears at dinner, but he stays out of the way, back in the shadows, accepting a bowl of stew from Sokka and seating himself away from the fire to eat it. Katara glares at him, and Hakoda eyes his daughter curiously - she is a sweet girl, generally kind and forgiving, and he wouldn’t have expected this animosity with what he has seen of Zuko himself, which makes him worry he has missed something about the boy.

Over the next few days he watches closely and comes to think again that he has not.

Zuko works with the Avatar - and he is demanding, pushes the younger boy, but not harshly or unfairly, and not without praise for his successes. The Avatar grins and does even better under Zuko’s expectant eyes and terse encouragement, and brushes off the occasional snap of scolding from him, hardly seeming to notice it contrasted to the slightly rarer smiles.

Zuko mainly stays out of everyone’s way, though. He tolerates Toph bullying him and ordering him around, though he occasionally offers a plaintive protest. The protest never stretches to a refusal, and sometimes, Hakoda thinks, he is almost hiding a smile when Toph snaps her fingers at him in a casual summons. He starts and stokes fires when they are needed without being asked, often before anyone else has thought to try, and then clears away unless he is cooking or making tea.

Other than that, Zuko is nearly invisible at the periphery unless the Avatar, Toph, or Sokka pull him into their group and insist he stay. Hakoda notices, though, that he never turns them down, never fights too hard to back away, and wonders if the boy is lonely.

He thinks Zuko must be when he sees the boy watching the others - left alone, as they often leave him alone - and there is something that could be wistfulness in his expression. Hakoda wonders if it is. If he would join the others if he thought he was welcome.

The thought makes Hakoda slightly sad; Fire Nation Prince he may be, but he’s only a boy, and he’s risked his life and turned his back on his family trying to do the right thing.

“Hey Dad!” Sokka says brightly as Hakoda settles near him, and offers a spare whetstone. Sokka is not currently using a whetstone himself, but buffing his black-bladed sword with a soft, scarred piece of leather, gentle and worshipful of the blade.

“Sokka.” Hakoda replies with a smile, accepting the stone and drawing out the blade Zuko had found for him on the airship. It’s not a Water Tribe blade, but it is strong and solid, and fits his hand well. It is in good shape - has been well cared for, mostly - but he begins running the whetstone over the edge. “You’ve done very well for yourselves here.” he says. “You’ve all been working together, and better than many adults would in such conditions.”

Sokka flushes slightly, grinning and stroking the hilt of his beloved sword. “Thanks, Dad. It- It means a lot to hear you say it. We’ve had a lot of work to do, but it’s important.”

Hakoda nods solemnly, then looks up, seeing Zuko moving towards the pagoda. He nods towards the boy. “Seems like the Prince doesn’t join you much.” he observes without inflection. He is curious what Sokka’s response will be.

“Huh? The Prin- Oh, hey, Zuko!” Sokka calls, dropping the leather he’s using to hone his blade over one thigh and waving a hand, beckoning. “Come over here!”

Zuko hesitates, then nods, and Hakoda raises an eyebrow as he disappears. Sokka looks unbothered, though, and returns his attention to his blade. “Is he not-” Hakoda hesitates.

“He has to get his dao.” Sokka explains. “You should see him with them, Dad, he’s incredible.” He frowns. “It’s _super_ not fair.” he adds with a sigh. “He’s an incredible firebender _and_ he’s better than me with his swords.”

Hakoda puts aside the whetstone and reaches out, clasping Sokka’s shoulder.

“You’re good.” Zuko says above them before Hakoda can offer reassurance. “And you’ve been studying the sword for less than a year, right?” he asks, and Sokka nods hesitantly. “You’re more confident with your boomerang.”

“Yeah, because Boomerang is great in life and death fights.” Sokka says, frowning. He reaches up over his shoulder. “Sorry, Boomerang.” he adds, biting his lip and brushing his fingers over the beloved weapon.

“You took me out with it once.” Zuko points out with a crooked tilt of his lips, and folds himself down to rest on the low rock opposite them. “I’m not saying you should use it _instead_ of your sword, but you grew up using . . . Boomerang, and that club you fought with when we first, uh, met.” He looks up awkwardly at Sokka, then back down as he unsheathes his heavy, curved broadsword and lays it across his lap.

Sokka nods, and he’s barely moving his hand over his sword now, though he’s mostly looking down at it still. Hakoda stays quiet, both because he’s curious at what Zuko will say to his son and because it seems to be sinking in.

“You’re _amazingly_ good for the amount of study you have with your blade,” Zuko says, and Sokka’s eyes widen as he looks up, “and how much of it is self-taught. I’ve been training with my shaungdao for most of my life.” With a deft twist he pulls his sword apart into two blades, surprising Hakoda.

“Oh.” Sokka flushes.

“Don’t discount your skills.” Zuko says firmly, pulling a bladder of oil and a cloth from the bag he has brought with him and working the oil over the dully-polished metal of one curved sword. “And maybe,” he looks up, his eyes almost mischievous, “don’t discount Boomerang in a fight either.”

“Yeah!” Sokka grins. “I mean, if I took _you_ down with it. . .”

Zuko laughs, and Hakoda ducks his head to hide his smile. At first he was a little alarmed at how the boys would refer to the time when they had been enemies, but they both seem to view it as simple shared history, and Zuko takes it with ease when Sokka reminds him of times he had been beaten.

Although to have brought up one on his own, seemingly only to boost Sokka’s confidence. . .

Hakoda feels a flash of fondness for the boy. “So you took the Prince down with your Boomerang? I’d like to hear that story. . .” he hints, waiting to see if either of them will answer - he really _does_ want to know.

“It was when he first came to the village.” Sokka says, frowning slightly. “He thought we were hiding the Avatar in our village. Crashed in demanding-”

“You _were_ hiding the Avatar in your village.” Zuko says dryly.

“But he wasn’t a hundred and twelve!” Sokka says and sticks his tongue out. Hakoda snorts.

“Technically he is.” Zuko said, snorting. “How was anyone supposed to know he froze himself in a bubble for a hundred years.”

“Aang was hiding, and everyone else faced off the Fire Nation ship. . .” Sokka trails off.

“I was coming down the gangplank, demanding to know where the Avatar was hiding.” Zuko supplies, lips quirking. “Looking at this boy with a club and warpaint, facing off against me and whoever might follow me off my ship alone, armed only with a club. . .”

“I attacked him, but Zuko just . . . threw me aside.” Sokka says, cringing. “I couldn’t defend the village, if-” He looks at Zuko and Zuko frowns, hands stilling on his swords. “If it had been anyone else, if Zuko hadn’t been so focused on the Avatar. . .”

“I wasn’t paying attention to him,” Zuko says, cutting Sokka off with an unreadable look, “but he attacked me again when I grabbed one of the villagers.”

“Gran Gran.” Sokka says, and Hakoda startles. “You grabbed Gran Gran.” he explains.

“. . .oh. Sorry.” Zuko says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Zuko disarmed me again, but one of the kids threw me a spear, not that it did much _good_ , Zuko just snapped it to pieces with his _arm guards_ -”

“Is _that_ why you kept poking me with that stupid stick?” Zuko asks, and Hakoda’s eyebrows rise. “Were you getting me back for that?”

“He hit me with the spear. The butt of the spear. In the _head_.” Sokka says, huffing at his sword and idly buffing a spot near the hilt. “And no, I already did that, when I knocked you off your stupid ship.” He makes a face at Zuko again. “I threw Boomerang at him before I had the spear, and it got him on the trip back, when he’d just thrown away my spear. Right in the back of the head.”

“I was angry enough to use fire daggers against you.” Zuko says, and Sokka eyes him warily. “Boomerang nearly knocked me off my feet, smashed into my head pretty hard even through my helmet.”

“I remember that. Those were. . .” Sokka shivers.

“Fire daggers?” Hakoda asks, not sure he really wants to know.

Zuko looks at him for a moment. Then he lifts one hand, curls it into a fist, and a short, spiked bar of fire extends from the bottom of his fist, as though he is holding a dagger.

Hakoda has never seen a firebender do that before, and says so. Zuko shrugs. “It’s. . . It takes a lot of concentration, and you have to be in close quarters to use them.”

Silence falls, and Hakoda looks at the boy as he dismisses the flame and returns his attention to his swords. He has been in a few close quarter battles with firebenders where such a trick would have served them well - where he might not have triumphed if his opponent had used them - and he wonders if ‘a lot of concentration’ is a quiet way of saying ‘not everyone _can_ ’. The boy is confident in himself, but seemingly not proud.

“. . .Zuko?” Sokka asks after a few minutes.

Zuko doesn’t answer, but tilts his head and hums softly as he drags the cloth up and down the broad curve of his sword.

“Why did you leave our village alone, back then?” Sokka asks tentatively.

“I swore I would do no harm if the Avatar surrendered.” Zuko says easily, hands moving smoothly over his blade. “I only needed him.” He looks up at Sokka, frowning. “Your people weren’t any threat to me beyond keeping Aang from me. You were the only fighter.” he says, not quite gently but simply. Matter-of-fact.

Hakoda eyes Zuko. The boy he knows, Hakoda is not surprised that he would have harmed no one if he didn’t have to, but then, when he had been hunting the Avatar for his father?

“Aang broke his word, though.” Sokka says quietly. “You left our village without hurting anyone-”

“Except you.” Zuko points out, and Sokka shrugs.

“You could have hurt me a lot worse. I wasn’t exactly giving up.” Sokka says, with a half-smile. Hakoda can’t imagine his son doing anything else, though the thought he now has of Sokka, facing off an entire Fire Nation ship alone, makes him sick. “You might have called up the fire daggers, but you didn’t even come close to using them on me. And Aang escaped - Aang attacked you and fled your ship, even after agreeing to surrender. But you didn’t go back. . .”

“. . .to smash your village?” Zuko says, and this time his voice _is_ gentle. Sokka nods. “You didn’t go back after Aang escaped.” he says, looking thoughtful. “You didn’t _know_ then, that I wouldn’t. That I hadn’t.”

Hakoda puts an arm around his son’s shoulders - Sokka looks miserable. Zuko puts down his dao and reaches up to rest a hand on Sokka’s knee, just shy of where his black blade rests on his thigh.

“You did what you had to, Sokka.” Zuko says softly. “And I. . . I wouldn’t take out his escape on your village. I knew the Avatar wouldn’t go back there, and I _did_ swear not to harm anyone.”

Hakoda thinks that most Fire Nation commanders he has faced wouldn’t have thought twice before going back to destroy the village, even so. Many would not have even waited for Aang to betray his half of the deal, but would have ordered their destruction after Aang had surrendered.

“I’m glad you’re a better man than most of the ones we faced.” Sokka says, and Zuko ducks his head. “You were, even then.” he insists, brushing a hand over Zuko’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hakoda runs out into the courtyard. There is no reason for the airship they had travelled back from the prison in to be lifting off, and he is afraid-

He comes out only in time to be thrown to the ground by an explosion. That is _not_ the ship they had brought back, it’s bigger - and not alone. And that . . . is the Princess, the one they had barely escaped back at the prison.

Hakoda keeps calm and gathers the others, regrouping with his children, who, along with Aang, Toph, and Zuko, had reacted much faster. The pagoda is shaking and beginning to crumble, and if they don’t do something soon they are going to be sent down into the canyon with it. Hakoda lets the children plan and follows their lead.

“Zuko, _no_!” Sokka yells, and only his sister’s hand on his shoulder, dragging him back, appears to be keeping him from diving away from Appa and after the Prince as he runs and _leaps off the pagoda_ , towards the airship. “Your sister is _crazy_ , don’t- Don’t go out there.” Sokka says, quieter, knowing it is too late, looking pained and worried.

He doesn’t chase after, though, and he pulls himself together as they make their escape - or at least attempt their plan. Katara is the one who holds things up, throwing herself at Hakoda and reaching out one hand to Sokka as well and he meets his son’s eyes - he understands why they need to split up, even though he doesn’t want to watch his children leave, especially not _knowing_ they are going into battle, again.

Knowing they may be chased immediately by the vicious Princess in her airship.

They separate, and Hakoda watches after the children until Haru closes the way, seeing Appa ready to fly out and face the Fire Princess’ airship forces. He shudders and prays for his children, for the Avatar, for their friends - even the Fire Nation Prince, who Hakoda hopes has not bought them the time he promised to try for with his death.

Even if he has not fallen to his death, though . . . the boy’s sister would kill him, Hakoda thinks, without a second of hesitation. Would _delight_ in it, with the crazed glee that lights in her eyes as blue fire flows from her hands in a wild storm.

Hakoda thinks of soft red-orange fire in fine-boned but strong, warrior’s hands, and then of his son wrapped tentatively in the boy’s arms. He thinks of the two boys - young men - talking and sparring together, as he has seen over the past days. And Hakoda prays for the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, wondering at the changes his children have brought to his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time Hakoda sees his son, Sokka is singed and limping and bruised, supported on one side by a brightly smiling Suki and the other by a slightly battered-looking Toph, who seems very happy to be _on the ground_ again.

The Fire Lord is defeated and Sokka is alive and Hakoda is alive and the Avatar is alive and Hakoda ignores that Sokka is a young man now, ignores that he is tall and strong and probably also in pain from his injuries, and runs to his son, dragging Sokka into his arms so hard he nearly sends them both tumbling to the ground.

Sokka gasps, a quick, pained inhalation, then laughs and hugs Hakoda back, his arms still strong despite his condition being somewhat the worse for wear. “Dad!” he says and his voice shakes but he is alive and _brilliant_ and Hakoda hides his few tears against the top of Sokka’s head.

“I’m so glad to see you, son.” Hakoda says, and rests a hand on Sokka’s head, then tugs his wolf-tail lightly, affectionate.

Sokka bats at his hand, laughing and scowling at once, and Hakoda smiles. Katara’s voice reaches them over the bustle as she hurries towards them, and Hakoda releases Sokka and turns to wrap his daughter in his arms, hauling her up and spinning around with her.

Katara laughs, though he sees that she is tired and looks worn and battered herself - not surprising, she had been on the front lines of the final throes of a war only yesterday. Hakoda kisses her brow and wraps an arm around Sokka again as well, allowing himself a moment to just _hold_ them tight, so thankful they’re safe.

Once Hakoda has managed to pry himself away from his children, he carefully draws Toph into a hug too - she protests loudly, but even as she does she leans into his hug, and he thinks of how young she is, despite the strength of the slim arms grabbing onto him in return. Suki clasps his arm firmly, with a warrior’s respect, and makes sure Sokka is steady on his feet - and he has Hakoda and Katara to look after him now anyway - before she leaves them to look for her warriors.

“How is everyone else?” Hakoda asks, of either - both - of his children. He knows only the broadest strokes of the past day and has only just arrived here.

“Aang is tired, but he’s all right. He’s happy he managed not to kill Ozai, although I think it would have been better if he did. . .” Sokka admits quietly. Hakoda frowns, but he thinks he might agree. Ozai is a monster, and even if he is no longer Fire Lord - and no longer free - he is still a threat if he is alive.

“Zuko nearly died.” Katara says, soft and regretful, and they all turn to her, shocked.

“Is Sparky okay?” Toph asks, her voice briefly unsteady, and Hakoda remembers watching her bark taunts and orders at the Prince - though never cruel - and laugh when he obliged, remembers how he never seemed truly bothered by indulging her - remembers that Zuko, like his son, has a little sister, even if his is now insane and he had to face her in battle many times in this war. “What happened?”

“Azula challenged him to a, an Agni Kai?” Katara says, and Hakoda shudders with the memories of Azula throwing searing blue flames at them all. “I told him it was stupid, I went with him so he wouldn’t be fighting alone, but he said she was. . . She looked _off_ \- she did, she was a _wreck_ \- and if he could take her out in a legitimate challenge it would be easier to accept . . . and it wouldn’t drag me into the fight. And he was _winning_!”

“He was?” Sokka says, then smiles slightly. “Good for him.” he adds, slightly viciously.

Hakoda can’t really blame his son for that, and he has only seen Azula a few times.

“Azula was getting _crazy_ , more crazy,” Katara amends, “and Zuko was beating her, and she- she threw lightning.” Hakoda’s eyes widen. “Not at Zuko. At- She threw it at me.”

“Katara!” Sokka stumbles away from Hakoda’s supporting arm and catches hold of her. “Oh, _spirits_ , you’re- Are you all right? You look-”

“I’m okay.” Katara says quickly, shaking her head. “It didn’t hit me. She was so desperate she broke the rules because she knew-” She shakes her head again and looks sick. “Zuko- He threw himself in front of the bolt. He caught it, obviously.” She sounds wrecked, and she puts one hand low on her chest. “But he couldn’t redirect all of it, he wasn’t grounded or- or ready.”

“Stupid Sparky.” Toph says, scowling. She sounds off, still, but her jaw is set and she stands straight and tall. Only a tiny tremor in her cheek betrays her distress.

“Is _he_ okay?” Sokka asks, and his shoulders are so tense they tremble slightly under Hakoda’s arm as he steadies his son again.

“Zuko’s alive.” Katara nods. “I- I took Azula out after that - she’s locked up now, and she’s even crazier than she was before - and I managed to heal him.” She swallows anxiously. “I think he’ll be okay, but I wasn’t . . . sure at first. I could only do so much, and he’s still healing now, but he’s on his feet again.”

“Thank the spirits.” Sokka says softly, and Hakoda squeezes his shoulders, silently echoing his son with a thankful prayer to Tui, though he supposes the moon spirit may not have been the one looking kindly upon a firebender to save the boy’s life.

“What happened?” Katara asks, gesturing to them. “On your end, what happened?”

They tell her, in pieces, and Hakoda listens to what his son has done this past day and is amazed and impressed and horrified in turns. Aang joins them, rather subdued and solemn, though he leans into a lingering hug from Katara. He doesn’t offer much as they talk and none of them press him.

They part again only reluctantly - Katara is drawn away by Aang, and is determined to check him over; Sokka cannot really move around much right now and stays where he is for the moment even when Toph leaves as well; Hakoda needs to find his men before he can return to his son.

“Sokka!”

The strong, but slightly rough voice startles Hakoda and he looks up to see the Prince at the top of the stairs to the palace’s grand entrance. He looks ashy pale, but he appears to be standing under his own power at least.

Hakoda startles as Zuko breaks into a run down the stairs, and Katara takes a step towards him with an abortive cry, but he doesn’t stop and he is already too far away for her to reach.

“Zuko! You’re oka-” Sokka is cut off as Zuko reaches him and he is dragged off his feet and into a kiss.

Hakoda stares as Sokka’s own eyes go wide. Then his arms wrap closely around Zuko’s shoulders and he throws himself into the kiss eagerly. Hakoda might be gaping a little at the sight. He thinks faintly that Katara said Zuko had taken a blast of lightning to the chest but he certainly seems to be . . . recovered now, despite his pallor.

Although he staggers a little as he allows Sokka to slide back down to the ground, so perhaps not so much as it looks - despite his own state, though, he is still careful to steady Sokka so he doesn’t hurt himself and support him as he balances on his one good leg. Zuko’s unscarred cheek is stained a ruddy shade as he dips his head shyly.

Strange, considering the overt declaration his actions have made.

Sokka has never been shy, though, and he pulls the taller boy against him once more - not that they had put much distance between them - kissing his blushing cheek. “I’m glad you’re safe.” Sokka says, just loud enough to be heard as Hakoda approaches them, his shock beginning to wear off.

“I was worried about you.” Zuko says earnestly, fingers trailing over Sokka’s face. “The airship division, we heard they all went down, that was you?”

Sokka grins, going rosy pink himself under the light caress. “Someone had to stop them.” he says. “And me, Toph, and Suki were the only ones around. And you. . . You took on your crazy sister. . .” Zuko looks upset, and Sokka cups his jaw. “You were the only one who could have.” he says gently, reassurance. “And,” he pauses, “you saved _my_ sister. Thank you.”

Hakoda is close enough now, but he holds back from interrupting them yet.

Zuko leans his brow against Sokka’s, letting out a low breath.

Sokka kisses him again, a little hesitant, and Hakoda clears his throat awkwardly, because he would _really_ like to not be seeing this, as happy as he is that his son is safe.

Zuko is the one who looks at him, and the ruddy flush returns as his bright eyes can’t quite seem to meet Hakoda’s for a moment. He bows his head respectfully when their gazes _do_ meet, and that is all the chance Hakoda gets before-

“Hey, stop hogging Sparky, Snoozles!” Toph says, and she punches him in the arm - lightly, Sokka barely reacts for a moment, then makes an overdramatic yelping sound and clutches at Zuko.

“Toph!” Sokka whines. “Why would you do such a thing to me?”

“It’s how she shows affection.” Zuko says dryly.

“I told you,” Toph says sternly, “ _stop hogging Sparky_ ; just because you got the hots for him. . .” she trails off, grinning wickedly in a way a twelve year old really _shouldn’t_ , and then hesitates, looking at Zuko. “Are you really okay?” she asks, her voice coming out a little harsh, though it’s quieter now - and brittle more than hard.

“I will be.” Zuko says, looking vaguely confused at the concern. The expression makes Hakoda want to go back and shake whomever had raised this boy until he remembers that the boy’s father and sister are both insane and wonders at how he’s turned out with seemingly only a lingering case of awkwardness and his visible emotional issues.

“I- That’s good.” Toph says, and coughs.

“You’re all right?” Zuko asks, and looks her over, fretful, then glances back at Sokka, smoothing a hand over his side. Like he’s inspecting both of them as best he can.

“Yeah, Snoozles took good care of me.” Toph says, and grins at Sokka again. “And Suki kicked butt and then saved both of us.” she adds, laughing brightly, though the façade shows a little thin with wide eyes and a too-tight smile.

“Good.” Zuko says, smiling slightly at her. “I’m . . . happy you’re safe.”

“Oh, _spirits_. You two.” Sokka says, and Hakoda is amused himself at the fond exasperation in his son’s tone. He tugs Toph gently towards them by her shoulder and then pushes Zuko at her. “It’s called a _hug_ , it’s not complicated.” he says with mock patience. “I know _feelings are hard_ , but it’s a special occasion, I think you can admit you have them. Now, both of you. . .”

Toph looks like she might punch him again, possibly with less playfulness this time, but Zuko hugs her lightly and she clings firmly to him instead. “Catching lightning is a job for _trees_ , Zuko. Don’t do it again.” Toph says, or that is what Hakoda thinks he hears, her voice muffled against Zuko’s chest.

“I’ll try not to.” Zuko says, his voice gone dry again, even though he is rubbing her back soothingly. “It wasn’t as much fun as it looked.”

“It didn’t _look_ like much fun any of the times I’ve seen it.” Sokka says; Hakoda was sort of thinking himself that it couldn’t have. Sokka tries to cross his arms but his balance goes wonky and Hakoda lunges for him, only for Zuko to stretch out one hand, catching him by the elbow before Hakoda can reach his son.

“Yes, that was my point.” Zuko says, snorting and submitting without protest to Sokka’s effusive addition of himself, hugging Zuko and Toph. “I thought _redirecting_ lightning was- Well. No, I’m not in a hurry to catch any more lightning any time soon. It shouldn’t be a problem, though.” he adds, sighing. “No one else can summon it, other than Uncle.”

“Good.” Toph says, and curls one hand into a fist as she steps back, then pauses and squeezes his arm rather than punching him. “Sugar Queen says you’re still healing, should you be out here yakking?” she asks.

“Katara will probably be trying to drag me back to bed soon.” Zuko says, rolling his eyes, and Hakoda winces. “The palace physicians are getting along with her cracklingly.”

“. . .don’t talk about my sister dragging you to bed, please.” Sokka says, looking a little distressed. “Especially not right after-” he breaks off, pinking.

“What? She _has_ been- _Oh_. Oh, Agni, no!” Zuko looks faintly horrified, his wan face paling a little more.

Sokka doesn’t seem to have quite heard him, though Hakoda finds himself relieved. “Oh, uh,” Sokka’s eyes widen and he looks around a little, perhaps only just _remembering_ that they are on the promenade leading to the palace and it is _full_ of people, “. . .none of your people look very surprise- . . .upset?”

Especially, Hakoda thinks, since Zuko was the Fire Nation Prince . . . and now he would be Fire Lord. A royal, with the expectations dependent thereupon. A Water Tribe _man_ was hardly what his people would expect from him, Hakoda knew. His own shock should be nothing compared to the reactions of these people. Sokka is right, though, no one he can see in Fire Nation colours looks more than curious.

“Hm?” Zuko looks fleetingly around them as well and shrugs, trailing a fingertip over the snug necklace of carved whalebone plates Sokka wears. “Why would they? They don’t know much about me, I’ve barely been home in three years.”

“Also I’d think if they have any sense at all they’ll be _grateful_ for whatever Zuko does, Azula was _crazed_ by the end.” Katara observes, scowling. Hakoda hadn’t actually seen her approach, distracted by the boys and his observation of those in the nearby crowd.

“But we. . . Well, you . . . kissed me in front of. . .” Sokka flushes a little deeper this time.

“Oh, _that_.” Zuko looks bizarrely _less_ unsettled now that Sokka has identified the source of his sudden alarm. “We are a very passionate people. Of all the things I could have done to shock them, kissing you on the palace steps is really not one of them.”

“. . .oh.” Sokka’s expression does something complicated. He looks at Hakoda, then winces nervously, edging closer to Zuko but stopping awkwardly almost in the same moment. “With the Water Tribe it would be. . .”

“I think you’ve more than earned the right to choose as you will, Sokka.” Hakoda interrupts reassuringly. “Even now.”

Yes, their battered tribe could use every young man they can find, and Sokka is far from having established his family and being free to pursue something with a man if he so desires, but. . . Sokka has risked his life and more to save not only their people but their entire _world_ \- and he looks at Zuko with a brightness in his soft eyes that Hakoda could not bring himself to dim even if he wanted to scold his son.

“You- Really, Dad?” Sokka asks, amazed, and Katara rests a hand on Hakoda’s arm, leaning against him a little and smiling.

“Choose?” Zuko says softly. “I didn’t think- Are marriages arranged in your tribe?” he asks, looking puzzled, and Hakoda chokes.

“No.” Sokka says, laughing. “And- I’ll explain later, okay?” he suggests, and tilts his head up to kiss Zuko’s cheek. Zuko nods, a smile softening his features again. Sokka leans further and kisses him again for real, one hand sliding up into his hair and cupping the back of his head, and Hakoda looks away.

Katara coughs. “I think he’s a good choice if you’re making one. Even if he _won’t stay in bed_ when his healer tells him to.” she says, arching her eyebrows at Zuko, who does not have so much as the grace to look abashed even as when pulls away from Sokka’s kiss, his lips reddened. “And _you_ , brother, should not be walking around _either_!” she says pointedly. “Has a healer even looked at you since that happened?” She points at his splinted leg, which he is trying not to rest any weight on.

“You’re looking at me right now?” Sokka tries, and Katara rubs a hand over her face.

“Both of you need to go and _rest_ somewhere. And Sokka-” Katara sighs. “Yes, I’ll look at your leg. _Properly_. Come on. Zuko, if you won’t grab even a cane or something at _least_ let someone help you.” she scolds, moving to Zuko’s side.

He must truly be worn thin, because he doesn’t only relinquish his grip on Sokka - finally - but also leans a little heavily on Katara. Hakoda offers his arm to Sokka, helping his son up the stairs in their wake.

Katara hasn’t the energy left in her to heal Sokka completely, and Hakoda thinks her brother would have stopped her if she tried, but she helps the broken bone along a little and re-splints it. She also tells him to rest, and keep from walking around.

They leave Zuko and Sokka resting in a huge bed together - Hakoda doesn’t say anything but he assumes that it is Zuko’s room - with a pair of guards posted at the door. Only one of them is a Fire Nation soldier, the other is one of Hakoda’s men. They keep eyeing each other suspiciously, but an exasperated word from Zuko and impatient snap from Katara immediately silenced any further displays of distrust.

Hakoda manages to get his daughter to sit down and rest by dint of sitting with her himself and distracting her with questions. She falls asleep after less than ten minutes, and Hakoda smiles at her, a little sadly, before scooping her up and going looking for another bed to put her in. Both of his children have grown up so much, and so much more than they should have had to, in this war.

This war they have ended, with their friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hakoda resists the urge to pant in the heat. He doesn’t come away from his tribe often any more - he’s happy for it to be so, though he misses his children now that _they_ are the ones far away from home - and the heat of the Fire Nation is always a bit much for him.

He is welcomed by the guards at the promenade to the palace itself, who look somewhat flustered - Hakoda has arrived a few days early, and the Fire Lord was therefore not there to greet him at the docks down in Harbor City or at the Royal Plaza. He doesn’t actually mind, though - he knows Fire Lord Zuko respects him and the Southern Water Tribe has never been too fussed about _that_ much ceremony.

He waves off apologies and follows the directions he’s given towards first, a fine guest room, where he leaves his belongings - his men are being escorted to slightly less fine guest rooms - and then to one of the royal gardens, where he has been informed he will find the Fire Lord.

He does, and he stops under the archway out into the garden. Zuko - Fire Lord Zuko, Hakoda reminds himself, but he looks more like a boy, right now. Well, a happy young man, at least.

There are fancy, gold-trimmed robes draped over a bench, and Zuko is stretched out on the grass near the pond in loose red pants, boots, and a sleeveless tunic over a shirt to match the pants, both held close with a gold sash. The Fire Lord’s emblem - crown? Hakoda thinks uncertainly - lies in the grass near him, metal glinting in the sun.

His hair is loose, because Sokka’s hands are playing in it, and Zuko’s eyes are closed, his head in Sokka’s lap and a faint smile curving his lips. Sokka looks happier than Hakoda feels like he has seen his son in a long time, happier even than when Hakoda left him, here in Caldera City with his royal boyfriend, a year ago - not just happy but happy and _untroubled_. Happiness without worry beneath it. Happiness hiding nothing.

Sokka is wearing red too, but only a vest over his brilliant blue shirt - also sleeveless, unlike Zuko’s - and deeper blue pants. His boots are of the Fire Nation cut, but have blue instead of gold trimming, and don’t come to quite such a high point at the toes. He doesn’t look quite like a Water Tribe warrior, at first glance, but he doesn’t look like he’s been swallowed up by the Fire Nation, either.

Hakoda thinks with relief that odd clothes or not, he looks like himself.

And, Hakoda realises belatedly, there is a bit of blue on Zuko as well - a blue cord dangles a steely blue, round pendant at the hollow of his throat.

Hakoda takes a step down the steps towards the grass, and Zuko bolts upright in one smooth movement, rolling forward onto one knee and extending one hand, the other sliding back along his thigh. Hakoda freezes, and Zuko meets his eyes, then relaxes, hand softening and posture easing. Hakoda sees the glint of steel in his off hand, though it disappears as his hand moves along his thigh once more. Resheathing a blade.

A young man, perhaps, and one absorbed in the idyll of a lazy afternoon with his- his lover, but a young man who had grown to manhood on the front lines of a war.

“Chief Hakoda, welcome.” Zuko says, smiling at him. “We didn’t expect you just yet.”

“Dad!” Sokka says, before Hakoda can explain about the swift winds and the journey taking less time than expected. He grins at his son - as does Zuko, even as Sokka leaps to his feet and nearly sends Zuko toppling into the pond as he runs past.

Hakoda hugs his son warmly, delighted to see him again - and, even with as much as he misses Sokka, he is glad that his son is so clearly happy here.

Sokka is taller now, Hakoda realises, with a slight pang; taller, and his shoulders are broader, almost as broad as Hakoda’s. His muscles are more defined now, as is his face, and when he speaks his voice is a little deeper.

Hakoda’s son is growing up, the remnants of his adolescence fading. He swallows down the pang and hugs Sokka a little harder. Sokka returns the embrace with fervour and Hakoda’s ribs ache just a bit at the pressure, making him grin.

“Hello son. Fire Lord.” Hakoda inclines his head slightly to Fire Lord Zuko, beyond his son. He is still sitting on the grass, dishevelled and with his hair loose and falling around his shoulders and into his face. Now that he is not on the verge of summoning a fire blast or palming a blade, it’s harder to see the deadly threat that he is over the lazy, warm-eyed, young-and-in-love man he also is.

“It’s good to see you again, Dad.” Sokka says as he steps back, grinning.

“I missed you.” Hakoda replies, squeezing Sokka’s shoulder. “You look happy, though,” he says, “I’m glad.”

Sokka glances at Zuko with a smile, and Zuko smiles back, sweet and small, the kind of smile meant only for one other person. Hakoda stifles a sigh, remembering times years ago, when he’d shared those kinds of smiles with his wife. He is happy to see his son doing the same now with the one he loves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even knowing it is his place, it is strange to see Sokka sitting at the Fire Lord’s left hand at the welcome banquet for Hakoda and his tribesmen the day after their arrival. The place reserved for the royal consort.

Sokka who looks . . . eminently comfortable there, charming the lady nearest him - she looks to be almost Hakoda’s age, at least, and has a reserved, aristocratic manner - joining in with Zuko’s conversation, speaking with Hakoda himself, and occasionally playfully stealing bites off Zuko’s plate.

Somehow his blue clothes - and his warrior’s wolf-tail, which Hakoda is a little amused, actually, to see he still wears - slide right into the room full of Fire Nation reds and golds. Though of course there are also Hakoda and his tribesmen, wearing blues, browns, and whites, as always, and a few other men and women in Water Tribe or Earth Kingdom colours dotted around the tables.

Hakoda notices that none of the Fire Nation officials - or the other guests from other nations, possibly councillors or ambassadors? - seem to be the slightest bit surprised or disapproving of the pair’s interactions. Even when Zuko catches Sokka stealing from his plate and, with a roll of his eyes, turns completely towards him, intimately close. A light stroke along the edge of Sokka’s shaved undercut is accompanied by the offer of a bite from Zuko’s own chopsticks with the other hand.

Sokka grins, lowering his eyes in a demure expression Hakoda would never have guessed he could fake, and takes it. Then he clasps Zuko’s hand, which the Fire Lord does not bother trying to reclaim immediately.

Zuko’s fingertips trail up and down Sokka’s hand absently as the man on his other side engages him in conversation once more, and Sokka reaches for his drink with his left hand instead of pulling away. He smiles at Hakoda, who smiles back and tries to think of something appropriate to ask his son because while he appreciates this political welcome dinner is something of a requirement for his arrival, he is not totally comfortable here.

Fortunately Sokka very much seems to be in his element - Hakoda knows he shouldn’t be surprised, after all, this _is_ Sokka’s home, now; sitting at the Fire Lord’s left hand, always - and he asks about the hunting back home, then smoothly slips into talking about sparring with Zuko. Hakoda stifles a laugh as he can _see_ Zuko’s attention twitch back towards Sokka.

Sokka can too, of course - or he simply knows it will happen - and he becomes a little more animated as he speaks. He’s confident in himself, and more so than he was the last time Hakoda saw him, and he is also quire clearly proud of Zuko.

He’s _happy_ , just as Hakoda had seen by the pond in the afternoon sun. He is warm and bright with it and Hakoda feels his heart tighten a little, glad for his son. The Fire Nation palace and his role at Zuko’s side, however formal and however many expectations - and restrictions - are heaped on him because of it don’t seem to have weighed him down at all, and he is loose and easy, even here, at a slightly stilted diplomatic function.

Hakoda laughs as Sokka describes a mishap that had sent one of Zuko’s dao and Sokka’s own sword both flying across the training room, and Sokka grins.

“What he fails to mention is that at the time he was trying to _throw_ his sword to disarm me of mine.” Zuko says dryly, leaning in closer to Sokka with a sly smile, and Sokka splutters out protests and denials, flushing.

Zuko kisses his cheek. “Just keeping you honest.” he says lightly, squeezing Sokka’s hand. “Usually your mad ideas do quite well, love, they have to fail occasionally.” he adds lightly before he leans back, attention shifting away again, though his fingertips remain on Sokka’s hand, lightly and absently caressing.

He misses the soft-eyed smile Sokka directs at him, but Hakoda doesn’t. He is _so glad_ that he didn’t try and bring Sokka home with him at the end of the War, as much as he wanted to, and instead allowed - encouraged - his son to stay here, to fully make his own choices for his life.

The woman Zuko has now turned back to conversing with - Hakoda doesn’t know her rank, but she is wearing armour that is probably decorative but still looks rather fearsome - smiles, not diplomatically but looking almost friendly, as her eyes flick over Zuko and Sokka’s hands where they rest together on the table.

It seems even that Sokka - the foreign, male partner their Fire Lord has chosen - is . . . welcomed by the Fire Nation, which Hakoda would not have expected. Not before he had returned and seen for himself the way Sokka acts and is treated here, both in the palace and the lower city. This is his home.

He is glad for it, but thinks faintly that he will _never_ understand the Fire Nation or its people. Even now that they are largely peaceful, he is friendly with the Fire Lord, and . . . his son is part of both the Fire Nation itself and to some degree its governance.

. . .madness, Hakoda thinks, though Sokka seems to suit his assumed roles quite well.

**Author's Note:**

> Agni is used as the name of a fire goddess, since that's where it seems to come from for 'Agni Kai', even though it's not clear if Agni is a fire deity in-universe or not. (I used 'cracklingly' as a fire-themed equivalent for 'swimmingly'.)


End file.
